Four
by JinMukang
Summary: It never really occurred to anyone that the current Robin was different than the one that showed up more than a decade ago; never mind that Nightwing was that first Robin. They all just kind of accepted that there was always a Robin and Batman. After an incident, Dick finds the whole issue absolutely entertaining while Damian just wants to forget the whole thing even happened.
1. Four

**Just something random I wrote during my breaks at work today. I haven't posted anything DC before, and I'm honestly not sure how well I kept Dick and Damian in character, but oh well. I don't have much plans to continue this, but let me know if you want me to.**

 **Disclaimer: You know the drill.**

* * *

Four

-Jin

* * *

The first time it happened, Nightwing couldn't stop laughing. Late into the patrol, Robin could still hear the hiccuping giggles coming through his small communicator. When they had finally returned back to the manor, Dick Grayson told anyone with ears about it. Damian went to bed with a headache.

In the end, he couldn't really blame the public for being confused. After all, it wasn't like Batman went out of his way to announce that he had adopted another black haired bright eyed orphan and turned them into Robin. It only made sense that they thought Nightwing, Red Hood, and Red Robin we're all new superhero recruits when Robin still stood alongside the masked crusader.

However, it didn't help Damian's mood at being mistaken as Grayson.

Like any story in Gotham, it started on a dark and foggy night. The unnatural yellow glow of windows and street lamps were not enough to illuminate the passing shadows of Nightwing and Robin as they jumped and flipped across the rooftops looking for trouble. It was a normal patrol between the two heroes. Red Robin was off with the Titans and Red Hood was… well, Robin didn't know where that idiot was. All he knew was that his father was off on some mission with the Justice League for the next week and Nightwing was asked to come to Gotham to help protect it.

It almost felt like how it did when Grayson was Batman, more enjoyable in a way. Damian didn't know that he almost missed the mindless chatter and the stupid puns until they were back to a constant drone in his ear. With his father, it was strictly business. Get out, stop crime, go home. Damian almost preferred Grayson's way of doing vigilante work. Not like he'd ever tell him.

Anyway, everything was normal. Normal squeaks of disturbed birds when they jumped roof to roof, normal eerie shadows cast from clouds over the moon, normal police sirens, annoyed alley cats, loose pavement, normal normal normal. It was almost looking like it would be a rare crime free night. The only kind of excitement they ran into was a couple half-hearted muggings and one or two failed drug deals either directed to and hosted by some snot nosed teen.

Just as the sky was looking a hue closer to the smoggy orange-blue day sky and away from the black of night, all hopes of going back to the manor incident free vanished with a scream echoing through the constantly busy city.

Robin and Nightwing had just met up on a skyscraper roof close to the GCPD and were just about to call it a night, but—unfortunately—it was rude to ignore someone in need despite it technically being morning—1am counted as morning—and Robin should be off the clock. Nightwing practically dragged Robin along, spewing nonsense about it didn't matter what time of day it was, one should always try to help someone in need blah blah blah. It was easy for Grayson to say; he was the one who decided to be a vigilante as well as a cop. Judge at night, jury at day or something like that.

Thankfully, it was a simple and classic "multiple sexually frustrated men corner a young woman who just wanted to walk back from work" case, so Robin didn't even have to break a sweat while beating up those street urchins. Nightwing went all out though. The idiot was flipping around and making snarky remarks while the woman watched him with wide, awe filled eyes.

In a matter of seconds, there were five untrained—probably even extremely unattractive to probably every kind of female—perverts either unconscious or restrained enough they weren't that much of a issue. Robin kicked one lightly on their side while Nightwing did his whole "comfort the victim" gimmick. It could be either a few seconds of: "Oh no problem, ma'am, just doing my job" or a whole long speech about how much Nightwing wanted to make sure she got home safely or whatever. It mostly depended on how much of a flirting mood he was in.

Thankfully, Nightwing wasn't in a flirting mood. He was probably as tired and bored as Robin, most likely wanted to go back to the manor, sneak a few peanut butter cookies and then collapse on a couch. So, as protocol, Nightwing simply walked up to the woman and smiled brightly.

"You alright, miss?" He asked. He stood in a relaxed position, letting himself look loose and no more of a threat than a particularly annoying fly. Or at least that was in Robin's perspective. To the woman he probably looked like a guarding angle that descended from heaven singing some joy-filled song; if the pink blush touching her cheeks were anything to go by.

"Yeah…" the woman replied after a few seconds of staring. Her hand lifted to her hair while her fingers twirled the long strands. Robin rolled his eyes and kicked one of the perverts again. "Yes, I'm okay. Thanks to you."

Robin almost wanted to barf, but Nightwing grinned brightly. "Just doing my job, miss…?"

"Ah, Kristan. My name's Kristan."

Ah, the first name. Robin suspected she, like many others, thought this was her chance to become the lovely damsel to some vigilante.

"Miss Kristan," Nightwing said, still grinning. He gently took one of her hands and kissed her fingers. The pink of her cheeks inflamed to red. "You get home safely, okay? My partner and I will take care of these guys." Nightwing let go of her hand and motioned to the perverts. Robin glared and kicked one of the captives who tried to scoot away.

"Oh- okay," the woman said. A disheartened look flushed on her face, but Robin couldn't really care less.

Nightwing said a polite goodbye and then walked over to Robin to so they could call over Commissioner Gordon to pick up the perverts. So they could go home.

Nightwing hadn't taken one step before the woman called out again, sounding nervous. Robin could just barely restrain is groan of annoyance.

"W-wait, um, I just want to say thank you—again—for-"

"We've already said you're welcome," Robin growled out. Nightwing shot Robin an annoyed glance.

"I… know, it's just, a few years ago I was cornered and- and Batman and Robin saved me then too. I was too scared to say anything then, I must have been a teen then…" she leveled her glance on Robin, "so thank you."

Robin narrowed his gaze at her while Nightwing just looked confused. "Judging on your age…" Robin stated slowly, almost apprehensive of how Nightwing and/or the woman would react to what he was going to say—tt, not like he cared or anything. "I wasn't even born when you were a teenager."

The woman looked shocked. "Then… who…?"

Nightwing suddenly burst out laughing. Red appeared on both the woman's and Robin's cheeks—both wondering if they said anything worth laughing about—before Nightwing took a deep breath and looked at the woman.

"Ma'am, I'm pretty sure I was Robin last time you were saved."

The absolute confusion and shock on her face only served to put Nightwing in a more giddy mood. "But… but…"

"Yeah," Nightwing said, his dumb grin widening by the second. "I was the first Robin, but then I grew up and got a new costume." One of Nightwing's arms wrapped around Robin's shoulder. "Squirt here is number four. My distant successor."

The woman looked like she was about to faint. "F… four…"

Thankfully, the woman after that was too mind blown to really make much more conversation after that. She left rather quickly, a blush on her ears, cheeks, and neck that would probably remain for the rest of the day. Gordon arrived not to long after, and only half listened to Nightwing's retelling of the hilarious—Nightwing's opinion, not Robin's—event. An hour later, Grayson burst into the Batcave and retold the whole thing to Alfred who only hummed halfheartingly, probably as fascinated with the tale as Gordon was.

Two hours later, Damian heard Grayson in his room laughing on the phone with one of his friends.

"They never realized there had been multiple Robins'! Wally, I mean, she thought Dami was me. I just-" Grayson cut himself off to giggle. "You should have seen his face!"

Damian rolled his eyes and continued to his own room.

Hopefully, no incidents like that morning would happen again.

How extremely unfortunate for Damian to find that it was just the beginning to a whole cluster of irritating misunderstandings.

* * *

-o-o-o-o-

* * *

 **Should I continue? Should I hide this away and pretend I never wrote it?**

 **?**


	2. Negative Four Part One

**Idk if much of you guys noticed but I updated a chapter two a few days ago and had** _ **Instant Regret™️**_ **the next morning. I think only a couple dozen people read it and only one person reviewed on it so I'm not worried.**

 **I decided to stick with the humor feel I have going with this story, so I guess this will be my first ever actual Crack story.**

 **Little note: I KNOW THERE ARE MORE THAN FOUR ROBINS! THERE'S A MILLION OF THEM. EVERY TIME I THINK I FINALLY CAUGHT UP I FIND OUT THAT OOPS I MISSED ONE. OR TWO. OR THAT ONE. OR THAT OBSCURE ONE THAT WAS ROBIN FOR THREE DAYS BEFORE SHE DIED OR SOMETHING.**

 **I'm new to the fandom, so please don't expect me to know everything. If you guys want more of these obscure characters, please recommend me comics to read. I want to get to know Cassandra Cain a bit more but I'm working on finding the right comics to read for her.**

 **Also, characterization wise, I'm going to stick to the fanon characterization, because no matter what I do I will be wrong in some way to canon. Like, Jason in one series is a pretty decent dude, just has some dad issued, while in another he's the raging psychopath that wears a popsicle helmet on his head that looks kind of inappropriate.**

 **If I characterize someone WAY wrong, then let me know.**

 **For now, this is an official crack/humor story. Have fun with this. Why so** _ **serious**_ **?**

* * *

Negative Four Part One

-Jin

* * *

A cold breeze rushed over Tim's skin, but it did nothing to clear the fog that settled behind his heavy eyelids. His limbs left like heavy weights that were super glued to long branches, like too much movement would snap the fragile structures in half.

It took him quite a few seconds for his eyes to finally open themselves, and in all honesty being able to see didn't help him put together anything about what was going on or where he was. It was like being woken up after taking heavy sedation. He could see, he could hear, he just couldn't process. Grey Gotham roads and yellow clouds blurred together with the towering brick skyscrapers and black shadows. Something wet fell onto his nose, he could feel the coldness of the drop travel down his cheek and land on the uneven pavement below him. A distant booming sounded through the air and a small flash of light illuminated the shadows for just a moment.

Tim blinked, and suddenly the noise was so much clearer and the sights were so much sharper. He instantly recognized that he was laying rather uncomfortably in the middle of a dark alleyway as the last of a thunderstorm retreated into the horizon. Small drops of rain traveled down the fire escape above him and landed in a puddle that soaked through Tim's very skin and chilled his core.

He groaned and shivered as a small breeze swirled around him again, and with a start he realized just how exposed he was. He was in his Red Robin costume, but it was horribly torn all over which was practically impossible. The suit could almost stop bullets, next to nothing could tear the material. And yet, as he lifted himself up to sit on his rear and lean over onto his hands, every part of his suit was like it was replaced with cheap nylons, creating stretch mark-like tears along the grain of the fabric.

He suddenly felt… big. Clumsy. Like he didn't fit in his own skin. Without even really thinking about it, his hand shot up and ripped off the cowl and suddenly he could breathe a bit easier. Something was wrong.

It was a subtle wrongness too, like he was looking at two seemingly similar photos and being told something is different in one of them, and no matter how hard he looked he couldn't find what was different but he knew it was there. Mocking him.

Suddenly, a sound of a deep yet drowsy growl sounded behind Tim. He spun around, expecting to see an angry animal whose home Tim had just invaded (there had been too many times Robin—all forms of him—and Batman had been surprise attacked by an angry stray… not that any of them—besides probably Dick—would admit), but what he saw were three figures laying on the ground like marionettes severed from their strings. The figures were cast in shadows, but one—the biggest one—was clearly moving, making annoyed and pain filled hisses with each muscle that rippled under their skin.

Suddenly, Tim's head screamed out in pain. His hands shot up and grabbed at his skull as the world around him fogged up.

-o-o-o-o-

"What are we after," Red Robin asked. His sharp eyes watched the blurry buildings of Gotham whisk by.

"She calls herself 'The Gun'," Nightwing said as he spun the batmobile around a particularly sharp corner.

Robin snorted from the back seat. "Tt, original."

"Her real name is Missy," Nightwing continued as if Robin's snide remark didn't happen, "a fearsome woman who has most recently taken over Gotham's petty crime organization. Her business ranges from muggings to money laundering. The most recent crime she's responsible for was illegal weapon parts found in hollowed out textbooks that were being smuggled into the country."

"Dangerous?" Tim asked.

"Resourceful."

-o-o-o-o-

With the random memory, the pain disappeared. Tim sighed in relief as he finally began to remember somewhat of what happened that evening. There was a new crime boss, one that Nightwing felt he needed help taking out while Batman was still off world. Tim left Titans Tower to help and before the night ended the three "brothers" left to follow a lead Nightwing found.

Doesn't explain what happened though.

He looked back at the figure that had begun to wake up. He glanced at the other two bodies, one was probably in their late teens while the other was just a child, before it clicked in his mind that two out of the three people could be Nightwing and Robin.

The big one could only be Nightwing.

Tim… _Red Robin_ crawled over, his muscles and limbs felt bulky and awkward... too big and too long… but he ignored the wrongness and reached over to Nightwing's shoulder, though he quickly retracted his hand when his torn glove met bare skin.

"Night-?" Red Robin stopped in the middle of the word, surprised by his own voice. It was deep, deeper than he had ever heard it. It felt wrong—everything felt so wrong—like he was talking with a spoonful of honey stuck in his throat.

The man shifted again and groaned and that's when Red Robin realized that this was all wrong too. Lightning flashed, showing just for a second a bare man who was just barely covered by a small yellow cape.

From besides him a higher pitched voice groaned. Red Robin, his heart pounding, spun around and came face to face with Red Hood.

His head exploded with pain.

-o-o-o-o-

Red Robin ducked as a bullet whizzed past his head. Nightwing grabbed Robin and jumped behind a felled poker table as Red Robin scrambled backwards and ducked under the bar counter. Bullets sped overhead and shattered bottles of alcohol, spilling the contents all over Red Robin; it was all he could do to deflect the liquid with his cape.

Just as Red Robin was considering just to bomb the place with sleeping gas, a different sound of gunshots rang out. Those loud bangs we're all immediately followed with agonized shouts of pain.

Then silence.

Red Robin slowly raised his head above the counter, and all honesty, he hadn't expected to see Red Hood standing in the doorway to the casino. Two guns were held in his hands, smoking at the nozzles. On the ground were the original thugs, clutching various wounds and moaning in pain. Red Robin instantly looked over at Nightwing; of which was staring at Hood with narrowed eyes.

"Don't give me that look," Jason Todd said as he moved his guns into their holsters, "at least I didn't kill them."

-o-o-o-o-

"Okay, who replaced my suit with an extra large," the figure of Red Hood said angrily, but in a voice that was much too young to be in their early twenties.

As Red Robin studied Hood a bit more, he noticed that the clothes were in fact too big. The red helmet hung crooked and the leather jacket hung off of bony shoulders. It looked like someone stuffed a young teen into Hoods costume.

'Hood' reached up and took the helmet off—with much difficulty too because the sleeves of the jacket were much too long—and then rubbed his eyes. "Also, why do I sound like a kid going through puberty?"

"Jason…?"

The _teenager_ looked up at Red Robin and his eyes widened. "You look like you grew two sizes… and why are you dressed in some kind of torn up, kinky-"

"Yup, you're Jason…" Red Robin said.

"What's that idiot doing here?" Came a deep voice. Red Robin had almost forgot about the man he had thought to be Nightwing. Now that he now heard the voice, he knew it was much too deep to be Nightwing. No offence to Dick but growing up didn't do much for his voice box. "And is anyone going to explain why my suit is torn up and why I'm most definitely not ten years old?"

Red Robin and Hood both turned to look at the man (who had thankfully moved the yellow cape to cover his front) and both had to double take.

"Good god," Hood whispered.

"… Bruce?"

The man narrowed his green eyes. "No, idiot. Robin. It appears I have grown to the size of an adult."

"Robin..."

"A bit slow, as usual, Drake."

Red Robin almost found the strength to stand up and throw fists with the apparent grown up Damian Wayne, but a small gasp caught the attention of every confused hero in the alley way.

"Trippy," said the small voice.

"Holy sh-"

Red Robin ignored Hood and Robin as he stared at the smallest form of the form of them. Large, blue eyes glinted cat-like from the body of a small boy who was practically swimming in Nightwing's uniform.

Lightning flashed, and all four Robins, former and current, found themselves with switched ages.

Lightning flashed, and in it Tim found himself in another memory.

-o-o-o-o-

It was an ambush. Missy knew they were coming so she left her goons behind to take out the trash. Whether it was lucky or not for the Red Hood to show up would be undecided until further notice. For now, the four heroes hightailed it through the sketchy casino as a multitude of thugs scrambled along behind them, shouting obscenities and waving around guns.

"Usually," Red Hood said through heavy but controlled breaths, "when the leader abandons the lakies, they run like roaches."

A bullet zoomed past Nightwing's ear and he stumbled. Red Robin grasped him by the arm and helped him steady himself before they were back to full speed.

"This way!" Robin shouted.

The heavenly sight of an exit sign hanging over a door met the heroes eyes. Nightwing smiled and Red Robin increased his pace.

"She's probably blackmailing them," Nightwing replied to Hood's earlier statement just as he kicked open the door.

All four vigilante's ran out into a stormy alleyway… and into multiple firearms.

Red Robin stopped and reached for his utility belt but was stopped when a wicket looking gun was practically stabbed into his neck. Red Robin slowly lifted his hands in surrender. A single glance to the corner of his eye told him the other three did the same.

"Or, Mr Nightwing," came a silky smooth voice. A woman walked into the alleyway, dressed in a beautiful green dress that showed all the right curves. A large man walked besides her, holding an umbrella to keep her dry. She walked past Red Robin, who was still being threatened with a gun, and stopped right in front of the eldest of the group. "They didn't leave because I didn't abandon them."

Her hands that were clad in white lace reached up and stroked Nightwing's cheek, of which only glared at her. Thank goodness for that too because Dick—like Bruce—had a nasty habit of bedding their villainesses.

"Are you going to kill us?" Nightwing asked when she removed her hand.

She bit her lip and backed up a couple steps, her heels clicking on the uneven pavement. "Maybe, not sure yet."

-o-o-o-o-

"No," Nightwing… or the ten year old version of Nightwing said. His thin arms were folded around his chest with the sleeves just barely folded up to his wrists. He only had the top part, having abandoned the pants to provide Robin some dignity—thankfully the shirt went down to his ankles. He wore a glare on his face, uncovered by a mask which fell off because it was too large.

"Look, replacement doesn't have his license yet and you probably won't be able to see over the steering wheel," Hood said, trying to defend his offer to drive the batmobile back to the manor. He tugged at his pants with jerky movements, trying to tighten his belt so they didn't allow the garments to fall down his hips, but unfortunately he was skinnier than what the amount of holes on the belt provided.

"I will drive," Robin put in, his voice deep, which matched perfectly with his unamused expression.

"Yeah, let's just let the f****** ten year old drive," Hood growled.

Red Robin watched as an argument broke out between Robin and Hood. A weird mixture of amusement and annoyance filled Red Robins chest at the whole situation. Amusement because he was now the second oldest and freaking Dick and Jason looked _tiny_ —which had never been a word Tim had paired with them. Annoyed because the arguing was getting no one nowhere fast.

Nightwing rubbed his temples, and after a few insults were spat between Robin and Hood, he finally looked up with anger flashing in his eyes. "ENOUGH!"

Everyone went silent as they watched as Nightwing gave them all stare downs.

Hood leaned over to Red Robin. "We sure _he_ isn't the demon kid?"

Before Red Robin could even decide if he was going to chuckle or shoosh the now-teenager, Nightwing started to talk.

"I'll call Agent A, he'll pick us up and the Batmobile can just drive on autopilot back to the cave," Nightwing said. He started to pace while he was talking. It was hard to take him serious with how small he was. "We will remain calm and-" suddenly, Nightwing fell over as he tripped over the hem of his suit. His arms waved dramatically as he went down, landing with a splash in a dirty puddle.

Silence filled the alleyway, everyone not sure how to react. Nightwing scrambled up from the puddle with his small fists clenched.

"… You okay?" Red Robin asked.

Suddenly, Nightwing burst into laughter and it became apparent to everyone that for the past ten minutes the whole "serious" demeanor of the boy was really him trying not to joke and laugh about the sheer ridiculousness of the whole situation.

Alfred drove up to the alleyway fifteen minutes later to find three of his boys clutching their stomachs as the fourth one watched with an exasperated look, but a smirk still touched his lips.

-o-o-o-o-

Driving to the manor gave Tim enough time to piece together the last part of his missing memory.

After Missy gave her animus threat, she held out her delicate fingers. A goon rushed up to her and handed her a small gun that looked like it was from another world.

"This, Mr Nightwing, is a prototype, so I'm really not sure whether it will kill you or not," she said as her fingers traced over the weapon. "Combining alien tech with human tech is dangerous, even trained professionals working for the government are weary to do it. So, honestly, there's no telling what one made from the hands of _criminals_ could do."

And then before anyone could do anything, she aimed the weapon at the four heroes and pressed the trigger

Last thing Red Robin knew was a blinding light combined with a hellish version of growing pain.

-o-o-o-o-

"Well, according to the blood samples," Oracle said from the other side of the bat computer, "you and… Jason are dramatically growing new cells, and Damian and Tim are losing theirs."

"Is that bad?" Dick asked. He sat in the big man's chair and the three others stood over his shoulders while Alfred went to grab them all clothes that would fit them.

"No, not really," Oracle said, "at the rate the cells are changing, I suspect the effect of the gun will wear off in about a week or two. I'd check in with Leslie and maybe even the League later, just to be sure."

"Wait," Jason said. He shifted in his standing and folded his arms tightly around his chest, "I thought you said dramatically. A week or two is way too long."

"You just don't want to he here when B comes back," Tim teased.

"No I- well that too- but I don't want to be stuck in this _PU_ berty body anymore."

It took all of Tim's strength not to laugh at Jason's voice crack on that perfectly timed word.

"I'm just telling you the facts," Oracle said as she matched Jason by folding her arms.

"Thanks, Oracle," Dick said.

"Yeah yeah, twirp," Oracle… no, Barbara Gordon said. "Now, since all the business is out of the way…" she proceeded to take a deep breath and then burst out in laughter. "OH MY GOD!"

Tim saw Damian snort and roll his eyes before walking away, clearly fed up with the whole situation.

"DICK, I FORGOT HOW TINY YOU WERE! HAHAHA!"

-o-o-o-o-

Tim slipped on a shirt and tugged up some sweatpants. They we're a bit small, that fact alone brought a smirk to Tim's face because they were Dick's clothes. He was taller.

After getting dressed, Tim made his way down to the living room. There he found Dick Grayson dressed in some of Damian's clothes, Jason Todd tugging at some of Tim's own clothes, and Damian wearing some of Bruce's old clothes because Dick's must have been too small.

Tim sat down on the sofa just as Alfred walked in carrying a tray of freshly baked cookies. He passed the tray to each of the boys and then set it down on the table in the middle of the room.

"I suppose we should inform Master Bruce of this situation," Alfred said.

Jason groaned and looked like he was about to bolt out of the manor, but Dick suddenly spoke up.

"Hey Alfred, how about we… _don't_ let Bruce know…"

Alfred raised an eyebrow.

"Like, we let him know that Jason is over, but once he gets here… we'll prank him." He had an evil glint in his eyes, which disturbingly reminded Tim of Damian.

Damian glared at Dick. "You're saying we lie to my father?"

Dick shook his head and grinned an impish grin that no ten year old should be able to pull off. "Not exactly. Let's just see how long it takes for him to notice."

* * *

-o-o-o-o-

* * *

 **I'm a sucker for reverse batfam.**

 **Next chapter may or may not by in my boi Jason's perspective. I can't wait to write it because it will be fun.**


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